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It was the first time Logan hadn’t been able to sleep next to Rogue. Maybe because it was the first time they had been together, maybe it was the copious amounts of liquor and doses of potent marijuna from the mutant Zeke he had met. The strain had a blocker to his healing--and he was more than disoriented. His dreams had been so vivid--racked with nightmares, scenes from his past--especially the night he had run poor Marie through when she had woken him from a similar terror. <br><br>

Regardless of the reason, her voice startled him. He looked up into peridot hues, beautiful woman waiting for him to come back to bed. Any fool would of--but Logan was afraid of hurting her again. He glanced down at his hands; worn, calloused--knowing the killing blades that rested just beneath the surface of his knuckles. He remembered the feeling of them entering her chest--separating bone, muscle, puncturing lungs. She would of bled out before him had she not touched him and taken his healing.
<br><br>

She was inside his head--he remembered it too well. She had a grip on his mind, his heart--his soul. The only person to see him for what he was, and love him anyway. He gave a soft smile, reaching out to take her hand in his, fragile and delicate paw mashed between his own. He lifted her hand, rough lips gracing her knuckles. He knew this was the start of something different, something wonderful--something precious. <br><br>


“I’m comin’, baby.” He murmured, blue eyes taking in her features. A burly arm wrapped her up into his chest, carting her off back to the room as he stamped out his cigar. Smoke billowed and died around them as he grinned, kissing her softly. He wouldn’t hurt her; he felt safe knowing she was beside him. <br><br>


“I love you, darlin’. Let’s go back to bed.”